Why Do You Fight?
by Derpitay
Summary: Collection of short drabbles concerning teams, duos, or the occasional self-questioner. No matter what, they answer the same question... Sometimes it'll be friendshippy, sometimes there's mini-angst. :)
1. To Protect

Here's the pic that I got inspiration for this from: oobidoobi. deviantart art/False-Positives-Jaune-490139820

* * *

 **I Fight To... Protect...**

He took another one from the jar. "You know, I never did fight because I… liked fighting."

"Whaddya mean by that?" She took another voracious chomp of her cookie, swallowing whole.

"Hm... how about this. Why did you want to become a huntress?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Did Ooblek tell you to ask that question?"

"Wha-? No?..."

"Oh. Okay. Well… I wanted to be the hero! Just like in the stories! How they save the world and beat all the baddies back!" She idly kicked her legs in the air, the countertop just a bit too tall for her.

"Heh. You're not the only one. But do you… you know… enjoy fighting?"

"If it's fighting Grimm, then yeah! I love kicking grimm butt!"

"Hahah… I'm sure you do. I mean, you've got your sniper-sickle-"

"Shythe," she corrected with a full mouth.

"Scythe, right. But I'm not like that. I don't enjoy it like you do, Ruby." Taking a slight pause, he turned to look over his shoulder and see the outdoors. "I don't enjoy combat." He turned back and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, eyes cast downwards.

"So… why do you fight? Why did you wanna become a hunter? I mean, you lied your way in here..." She finished sheepishly, the words leaving her mouth before she really thought about them.

He didn't really seem to notice her trailing off as he answered her question. "I fight... so I can protect those who can't defend themselves. So I can be their shield when no one else will help... "

"So you wanna be the hero!"

Smiling down at his fellow team leader, he nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. Hero…" The word tasted weird in his mouth, and he just tried to wash it away with another bite from his cookie. Finishing the one in his hand, he reached into the jar to find it empty.

He looked up at Ruby, and she was already ducking her head and frowned slightly.

"It… wasn't me," she said in a meek voice.

Laughing, he just shrugged it off. "It's fine, Ruby." He stopped for a second, and looked around him. The cozyness of their dorm room; their home away from home. "You know, this is why I fight. To protect this. The peace that we have."

She beamed a smile at him. "You know, that sounds really nice. Protect those who can't defend themselves… do you work on these lines?"

He kept that same grin. "Maybe."


	2. To Be The Good

**I Fight To... Be The Good**

 _Dear Diary_

 _It got me thinking, after I had that chat with Jaune._

 _(Also FUTURE RUBY READ THIS, TELL REN TO BAKE MORE COOKIES BECAUSE THEY WERE AWESOME!)_ *She underlines it heavily multiple times in sloppy Ruby fashion*

 _We were talking about fighting and why we did it. Heheh, Yang would probably just say that I do it because I'm stuck in that 'i wanna be a hero' stage. But I do want to be a hero… really badly._

 _He says he wants to protect people, and he made some really stupid line that made me laugh. But it wasn't really stupid, and it made sense. He wanted to protect the people who couldn't help themselves, and it was really nice of him to say that._

 _It's weird, too. Before I talked with Jaune today, I didn't really think too much about stuff other than killing grimm. Saving people was good, I know that, but when I fight them I don't think I think like Jaune does._

 _Diary, he said he didn't like to fight! After I talked about how he faked his papers to get in (thank Oum he didn't focus on that part) he just talked about how he fought because he had to. It made him seem like this protector person, and I could really see it on him. It would make sense for why he has that shield, then._

 _Now that I write about it, do any of us on RWBY have shields?_

 _Huh._

 _Reminder to self Ruby, add a shield onto your sweetheart._

 _He's a nice person too, he was my first friend here too other than Yang. He really fits that picture of being a good person, even if he is a dork._

 _Aaaand I just wrote another reason for why I'm never ever ever gonna show this diary to anyone._

 _So when I got back to my dorm I put my thinking cap on and sat there for a bit. Why do I fight? I like saving people, and I like taking down baddies even more!_

 _So does that make me a hero? Am I like Jaune? I don't know, and now I'm here writing what I'm thinking because that's what diaries are for and I'm not sure if it's helping or not._

 _He says he fights for the peace we have. He looked really happy when he just looked around, like it was the best thing on Remnant. It made him really happy I guess, seeing that we were all safe..._

 _Are we really so different?_

 _._

 _I'm making myself tired from all these questions I'm writing… urgh. I just wrote urgh._

 _Urgh._

.

.

.

 _I just wanna be the good guy… I want to be those heroes in the books that Mom told me before I went to bed…_

 _Help. Help protect, I guess. That's what I want to do. Help the good guys that Mom talked about. She was good at being a good guy... I don't want to do anything else except help others too._

 _Be the good._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _I just yawned. So, I'm gonna go to bed now… Goodnight Diary._


	3. To Honor The Past

**I Fight To... Honor The Past**

"Tell me about your family, Ren."

"My... family?"

"Listen, you just trusted us with a secret. It's okay if you don't wanna say anything else, but I wanna help you. Don't keep it all bottled up between you and Nora. It's not healthy. He put a hand on the stoic teenager's shoulder. "You've helped me before. Let me return the favor."

He nodded. "So be it." He paused before he spoke, composing himself. He took a deep breath, and started. "We Lie were known as peacekeepers, resorting to violence only if necessary when it came to human conflict. We developed a reputation as masterful fighters nonetheless, as our hereditary gift was the ability to channel aura with more finesse than even the most gifted user."

"That thing where you can push things really hard, right?"

Ren gave the smallest chuckle at his team leader's not-so-eloquent wording, a short exhale from the nose. "Yes, Jaune. That's how I can... push things really hard." He sighed again, a shorter one this time. "We were a patriarchal family, and we were led that way for as long as the history textbooks record it." Making eye contact, he noticed that Jaune was looking at him strangely. "Do you know what patriarchal means?"

"Uhhh..." He scratched the back of his head.

"It means that we were led mostly by men, and our most respected member was the oldest male at the time."

"Oooh. Gotcha."

"When the Great War came along, we tried to advocate peace. We tried not to involve ourselves and become another gear in the machine of war, but it was not to be. Eventually, several assassinations took place that were targeted primarily at those at the top of our patriarchy. We were one of the strongest families in all of Remnant, and they saw us as a threat." He paused. "They almost succeeded in disbanding our whole clan."

"Woah."

Ren made a small noise in agreement. "So when the war ended, and the four nations established peace, our line was nearly broken. What the history books do not detail, Jaune, is the fact that our whole family line nearly died out. The few of us remaining were scattered across Remnant, trapped in their battlefields as illegal prisoners of war, or killed. My family, the five of us, were the only ones left in our clan home at Vale." Ren narrowed his eyes and looked down, shaking his head slightly.

Jaune put his hand on his shoulder again, and gently shook him. "Remember, you don't have to."

"It's fine, Jaune. Thank you, though. This is just... a powerful thing. To explain your family history to someone new."

"Take your time, bud."

That he did, and he sat there for a good thirty seconds before speaking again. "My grandparents were the first to hide away, and they birthed a daughter. They relocated from our clan home to a small town outside of the city walls, and my mother grew up there. They were safe from the prying eyes, grasping hands that were looking for them."

A moment of silence passed between them. "It didn't last, did it."

Ren let out a shaky breath that he didn't know he was holding. Jaune was stunned at the fact that he just saw Lie Ren take a breath that was anything but calm, the story obviously unraveling him.

"We Lie were treated as the heroes of that small town. As my mother married, she helped unlock her husband's aura, and helped him train in the ways of the Lie. They helped to defend the town from the ever-growing threat of Grimm, and in return they kept their presence there secret. We did not tell them much of our history, for not many had heard of our line. But several elders had, and they promised that they would never tell." He took another sigh. "But word of a pair of people fighting in a distinct way? The Lie way? It could not remain a secret forever."

* * *

 **The siege was brutal, but excruciatingly slow. Slowly, one by one, the elders from our village had begun to disappear. The only people that we could trust. Fear, terror, these spread through the village like wildfire. They came to us, the people, and asked for help. But my mother was still looking after me at the vulnerable age of four, so they cried to my father to try and find them.**

Ren stopped, taking a few breaths. He swallowed hard.

 **I distinctly remember my mother telling him to not go. To wait until she could go with him, for he had never gone on a solo-mission, and he was not nearly as experienced as she was. So he waited, and the villagers became to resent us.**

He clenched his fists, lowering his tone.

 **It went this way for two years. They called us traitors. Cowards. Any semblance of gratitude they had for us was gone. Food we had to hunt on our own, drink we home-brewed. We looked towards the elders for help, but those who remained were swept up in the tide of anger. And anger... fear... these only bring the Grimm.**

 _Ren, you don-_

 **At the start of the third year, when the elders had originally started to vanish... we didn't stand a chance. It was all too much. At first, my parents went out to meet the enemy, to stall them. It was working, too. From my room, I heard them shout, cry in victory. But the Grimm just kept coming. Their snarls... all too loud. And at their last strides, when they looked for safety in the villagers? They were backstabbed.**

His hands trembled in anger, and Jaune could visibly see purple light emanating from the strong grip that Ren was enforcing on his own hand.

 **The aura-replenishing potions that were given to them were poisoned.**

The light got brighter, and even the light itself seemed to be shaking.

 **The villagers thought the battle was won when my parents had come back. But betrayal fueled a second assault. The town was overrun, and they were all killed. It was a massacre.**

The aura light emanating from his hand died down slightly, and Jaune asked him in a quiet voice.

 _How did you escape?_

Ren took a deep breath, and he visibly relaxed both his expression and the pressure he was putting on his hands. The light died down to a mere simmer, and Jaune could see his whitened knuckles.

 **The first thing my mother taught me when I could comprehend words was that the Grimm are attracted to fear. To anger. And so I trained to remain calm, to not show those negative expressions that would allow them to gain the upper hand on me. So I sat there. I sat there, and I meditated for hours. Days. I didn't move. I did not let fear reach my mind.**

* * *

"So that was when you met Nora?"

He nodded. "Yes." Jaune looked at him, Ren's head still slightly bowed, but his eyes were open. Pale pink was glistening, but the dams refused to break. Years of building them up meant that they were made of sterner stuff by now.

Jaune opted for silence. After the traumatic tale, Ren needed nothing more than silence right now, and Jaune knew it.

After a minute, the blond stood up and wordlessly went to the kitchen, made him a cup of chamomile tea, and brought it to his friend. He accepted it with a lowered nod, and palmed the calming drink in his hand before taking a few small sips.

"I knew when I realized my semblance, my aura, that anger would not bring absolution. That it would only make matters worse. So I trained with Nora, to remain calm and composed." He sighed again. "You understand what it's like to carry a family's legacy, right Jaune?"

"Yeah."

"It's such a large weight. Burdening. But when I remain serene, calm in the face of danger, that weight seems to be lifted. If not for combat, but everyday life, as well. My family's legacy rests on my shoulders. My burden to carry. But I know that I will fight for it.

And I will give my dying breath to save it."

* * *

 **END**

that was my first attempt at something... serious. like, ever. it turned out okay, I guess. cringe? ooc? sorry... ._.


	4. To Find Them Again

**I Fight To... Find Them Again.**

Breathing louder.

 _Drip. Drip. Drip._

Sweat beading.

 _Drip. Drip. Drip._

The punches don't stop landing. One, two. One two. Combinations that land in flurries, powerful blasts reinforced by aura.

 _Drip. Drip. Drip._

Each blow only serves as a reminder.

 _KYAH!_ A roundhouse meets its mark.

She fought for a different reason, once. An explorer at heart, and a burning fire at the center. But it's not like that anymore; the bright fire burned out too long ago.

 _Rattle. Rattle._

Each hit, hard-knuckled fists meeting rough leather, shakes the bag.

 _Drip. Drip. Drip._

The hits slow.

 _Drip. Drip._

The blows stop.

 _Drip._

The bag settles, barely shaking back and forth as it recovered from the beating. The only sound left is the hard breathing of a fallen star.

Fire's gone. But she had to keep fighting. She felt like she had to forget...

 _Drip._

* * *

 **"... I love you..."**

She didn't say anything.

The next day, the one who loved her left. She didn't do anything to stop her.

* * *

 **"Hon, it's time to get up."**

No words left her mouth.

Wordlessly, she went about her day. Wake up, deal with the day, go to bed. It was all the same. There was little comfort.

* * *

It was an immaculate room. White everywhere, spotless equipment. The last gift her white-haired teammate could offer.

"How does the arm feel?" A nurse, prim and proper. Didn't actually care about her. Smile faked, compassion unreal.

 **"It's fine."**

"And how are you holding up?"

 **"I'm fine."**

* * *

She had to forget. It hurt too much.

 _Drip. Drip. Drip._

They didn't stop dropping. Sweat beading, but nothing fell.

 _Drip. Drip. Drip._

Eyes barely see through the haze, the water-induced fog. Slowly, they regain clarity. They look at what they're doing, what they've done.

 _Drip. Drip. Drip._

But lilac didn't want to remember. They wanted to forget, to let go.

 _Drip, drip. Drip, drip. Drip, drip._

But each time she landed a blow, a right hook, a straight cross, she saw a glint of metal.

 _Drip, drip. Drip, drip. Drip, drip._

She wanted to forget.

 _Drip, drip. Drip, drip. Drip, drip._

Why couldn't she forget!?

 _Drip, drip. Drip, drip. Drip, drip._

"WHY!?" A hoarse cry escaped from chapped lips.

A wound up punch blew the bag off of the chain. It flopped onto the floor, sand escaping from its man made prison as it met the floor for the first time.

 _Drip, drip, drip. Drip, drip, drip. Drip, drip, drip._

She fell to her knees. Defeated again.

 _Drip. Drip. Drip._

Dams started rebuilding themselves. She reminded herself that she was made of sterner stuff.

 _Drip. Drip._

She could get past this. She was strong.

 _Drip. Drip._

She was a Xiao-Long. She fought with everything she had.

 _Drip. Drip._

The only thing was, she didn't really _have_ everything. She wasn't whole. She never would be.

* * *

Footsteps, heavy, bursted into the training room.

"Yang? Yang, are you okay? Sweetheart?"

A blond took his daughter into his arms, but her tears subsided at that time. All that was left, the only evidence, was a rolling bag of sand, and drops that were slowly evaporating into the air on the floor.

"Hon, I told you not to go too hard..." He took her hands in his, one cool and one burning. Metal and flesh met his whole-flesh. "You're bleeding."

"I know."

She looked away. She didn't want to be seen like this. But she knew she had to keep fighting, and she forced herself to train. To keep moving forward.

"Wait here. If your aura doesn't fix it by the time I'm back, supplements'll help you." He stood up, and ran out.

She was left on the floor, alone again.

Alone again.

Alone.

But she picked herself back up. Sterner stuff, she kept saying to herself.

 _Sterner stuff._ Fists clenched as the pushed out a few more drops of blood, yellow light sealing the small cuts.

Time after time she knocked herself down. And she did it on purpose.

Rebuild. Go higher than before. Keep fighting. Fight for redemption. Be useful to _them._

* * *

"C'mon, Blakey! I'll get you some tuna!..." Her voice was sing-songy, and eyes went wide at the mention of fish.

"... Really?"

Blonde won the day. She smirked. "If you get your lazy butt outta bed, sure."

* * *

 _Fight for..._

* * *

"Rubes! Where'd you put the cookies!?"

"I'LL NEVER TELL YOU!"

"RUBY ROSE, I SAID YOU WERE GROUNDED!"

"NEVAR!"

* * *

 _Fight for..._

* * *

"Oh, come on Weiss! You can't say that this isn't cute."

It wasn't. It really wasn't.

"It's not."

"You're just too picky."

"I have completely reasonable standards!"

"Suuure."

* * *

 _For them._

* * *

"Gooooo Team RWBY!" A brunette with red tips jumped into the air, fist pumping.

"Fight well!" A cute flag waved by a raven-haired cat faunus.

"Perfect form." A casual flip of the hair, victorious pose.

* * *

 _I'll find you guys. I'll find you, and I'll help you._

 _I promise._

* * *

 **END**

yet again, I try to write angst. yet again, it's not as good as i'd like it to be, but hey, it's a learning process.

thanks for the read. next chapter'll be something more light-hearted, I pwa-mise. pwitty pwamise.


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